Recruiting
by Arakhne
Summary: Legato is looking for a reason to exist amongst childhood trauma. Knives is looking for a loyal servant.


Title: Recruiting

Author: Arakhne

Disclaimer: Not mine! Not mine! Not mine! All praise Nightow. Bow, plebes, bow.

Recruiting

The blood-drenched knife slipped from Legato's hand and tumbled toward the cold tiled floor, clattering against it with a metallic ping. He stared, wide-eyed at the lifeless body of his step-father, Karl. Sick, disgusting, Karl; not worthy of the air he breathes. Legato had finally been freed of this man that had stolen his innocence and childhood from him. No, he wasn't even a man. He was a blob of organic matter, polluting the souls of those fool enough to be near him, feeding off of the pain he inflicted on others.

The stench of fresh blood filled Legato's nostrils, going straight to his brain and taking his senses captive. The aroma swirled around in his head, just behind his eyes, soaking him up and empowering him. It was invigorating. Looking down at his hands, Legato watched the blood trickle down his fingers, like miniature rivers, and drip off the tips of his hands, hitting the floor with a soft splatter. He raised his hand to his face and stared at the blood as it seeped into ever crease, fold and line in his skin, and he could almost feel it creeping in through his pours and running through every fiber in his body, covering him and enfolding him in the dark power and freedom he had achieved in taking Karl's life and ending his own torment.

It had to be done. It was either him or Karl. Either Karl fed and fed off of Legato's life until there was none left, or Legato took his chance and seized the liberty from torture that had always been dangling just beyond his reach. He had to kill the spider, in order to save the butterfly. _It was the only way_, Legato thought, reasoning with himself that his actions were justified. He had done the world a service in ridding it of him. Had Karl been allowed to live, once he'd finished with Legato, he'd just find another victim, and then another and another; a never ending cycle of unnecessary suffering. _It was the only way_, He thought once again, reassuring himself that he'd down the right thing.

_ Of course it was. _

Legato whirled around, frantically searching the room for who the voice had come from, when he saw him. He was tall and lithe, with broad shoulders, sharp angles. His white-blonde hair reminded Legato of bone and he had the coldest blue eyes that seemed to stare straight through you, stripping you of your defenses and living you bare and naked, presented before the world just as you are. The man possessed a sort of dangerous grace, like a sharpened katana; a symbol of beautiful death and smiling malice. Legato's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at the man, in awe of him. To Legato, the man appeared to be something far beyond human, like an Angel of some sort. The blonde-haired man smirked and began to clap, slow and timed in an almost mocking manner. The sound snapped Legato out of his trance and he frantically fumbled around on the ground, trying to snatch up the slippery blood-covered kitchen knife he'd used to slay Karl in his small adolescent hands. His actions apparently amused the man who had some how found his way onto Legato's scene of murder, because he began to chuckle and soon the chuckle turned to a booming, fit of laughter.

_ Do you honestly think you'll stand a chance against me, human? Ha! You amuse me, boy. _ It took Legato a few moments to realize that the man had spoken, but hadn't open his mouth at all. The knife slipped once again form his hands and Legato's mouth dropped as he assumed the deer in the headlights look. The lithe and graceful man rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"So easily perplexed. Your race truly is pathetic." He said as he took a few lazy steps toward the small boy. Legato was slightly taken aback at his comments and his nonchalant manner in which he addressed Legato, despite the situation he'd found him in. As if he'd read Legato's thoughts, the man tilted his head to look around Legato at the lifeless, bloody corpse behind him. The amused smirk he wore only moments before found its way back onto the man's pale lips. Legato was bewildered by the way in which the man's mood changed so quickly, making him think he was bipolar. The man pushed Legato aside, and stepped closer to get a better look at the body. Karl had three gaping wound in his chest and two in his stomach. Legato watched in silence as the man stood and nudged the body in the side, rolling in over. The man stared down at the blood he'd gotten on the tip of his shoe in disgust, like it was a vile parasite that had leeched itself on to him, attempting to suck some of his grace and power from him for itself.

Pulling up a rug in the middle of the room, he cleaned the blood off his shoe and turned back to Legato, taking a long moment to gaze into his eyes. Legato began to fidget, feeling awkward under the man unyielding stare. The blonde haired angel of a man narrowed his eyes at Legato's fidgeting hands, and in one quick and fluid movement, he covered the distance between himself and Legato and smacked the boys hands. Legato gasped in surprise and stood at full attention, positively sure that he didn't want to anger this man. His mood changing in an instant once again, the tall man crouched down in front of Legato, getting at eye level, and smiled; the first genuine, pure and welcoming action the man had performed since he'd arrived.

"Do you have a name, or should I just call you filth, or perhaps parasite? Maybe disease. All of are fit for you race, really." He said, still smiling sweetly, a contradiction to the words he uttered.

"L…L…Le-" Legato stuttered, willing his voice to be steady.

"Don't stutter!" The man said suddenly, interrupting him,"If you're going to say something then say it. Don't stand there like a fool making incoherent noises."

"Legato Bluesummers, sir." Legato forced out. The man's disturbingly kind smile widen with Legato's response.

"Hello, Legato, My name is Knives." The man said, his polished voice smoothing over the syllables, making Legato's name sound like a word sung by a angel.

Knives. The very name was the sound of sanity breaking; shattering into sharp shards of glass that find themselves settled in the throats of all those vile cretins, such as the now quite dead Karl. Legato repeated the name back to him, running his tongue over the smooth vowels and sharp consonants. Knives nodded slowly, watching the way the boy gazed at him with a mixture of awe and fear.

"How would you like to come with me, Legato? I can teach you wonderful things. Things you could never learn from this putrid species." Knives said, nodding his head towards Karl. Looking back at Legato, Knives say the hesitation in the boys eyes and he stood, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply; an evil grin spread across his sharp features. He sighed and presented the image of pure contentment.

"Death is intoxicating, Legato. I trust you've already experienced the thrill that can be achieved in taking the life of something as vile and loathsome as that." Knives said, once again, indicating Karl,"Wouldn't you like to feel that again, Legato? Wouldn't you like to rid the world of all those people like him?"

Ever so slowly, Legato nodded. His face began to become hot as he felt his blood boiling at the memory of all the things he'd had to suffer through because of Karl. If Karl would only rise up and live again, Legato wouldn't hesitate to murder him a second time, channeling all the anger, hatred and pain he's had to endure because of him.

"You see, Legato, that's exactly what I'm trying to do, but I can't do it all alone, so I need your help. Will you help me, Legato? Will you help be rid the world of the plague presented by people like that man? In order to save the helpless victims like yourself, will you help me?" Knives said, forgetting to mention the part in which the "people like that man" included the entire human race. There would be time later to convince the boy that none of them deserved the life they were mistakenly given.

Knives voice seeped into Legato's ears, manipulating and reforming the thoughts in his head ever so slightly to fit his cause. Legato's eyes widened and he looked up at the man he would soon worship as a God, and he nodded vigorously.

"Yes…Yes, I'll help you!" He exclaimed with vehemence, now full up with a passion.

"Very well. You may call me…Master." Knives said, an evil slipping it's way back across his face as he gazed down at his young prodigy.

"Yes…Master."

-Fin.

A/N: Thanks for your time. Please review. Have a nice life.


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